Another Chance
by Longstrider
Summary: Haunted by a past transgression, Kieran aimlessly wanders Middle Earth. In his journey, he meets Arrades, eldest daughter of Elrond. He is faced with the choice to remain in the shadow of his misgivings or to embrace a second chance. Rated M for violence and other mature adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

{_Hello new and devoted reader's, I hope you enjoy this new LOTR fanfic I have been working on. It is loosely based on the #Middleearthers tag on tiktok. I wanted to go into more depth story wise, hence the birth of this fanfic! I have provided to the best of my ability translations for the Elvish phrases at the end of the chapter. __Also want to give a very special shout out to the beta readers, my loving friends, who provided feedback! Thank you! __Please tell me what you think in the reviews! _

_ ~Longstrider _

There was a stir as the leaves rustled across the walkway of the dirt path. Kieran's eyes danced among the trees admiring the colorful hues that lined the treetops. His sword and pack thudded sagging against his backside. A weary line crossed his brow. The sunlight was bright and early.

"[1]_Masse I londa, ere sina macil ere._

_Masse, Nye pen nólë_

_Tenna, ere cenya lye ata_

_nai elen atta siluvat lye—"_

Kieran stopped singing and turned to a small creek. He knelt and cupped his hands into the cold water. He splashed his face. "Ahhh…." The water rolled down the side of his dirty complexion. It felt refreshing on his face. He rubbed his rough chin and leaned back.

He pulled his pack out and opened it to pull out a small pot. Kieran leaned sideways to dip the pot into the stream. "There we go," he muttered to himself as the pot filled halfway. He set the pot aside and pursed his lips. Now he needed a decent fire to heat the water. Perhaps now would also be an opportune time for breakfast. He rose to find dry wood suitable for a small fire.

Kieran returned after a little while where he had left his belongings by the stream. He let go of the armful of wood. The wood thudded on the ground. Kieran crouched and stacked them neatly in an upright fashion. He sighed as he grabbed a handful of dried leaves. He pried a small glass lense from his pocket and held it out in the sunlight. Small wisps of smoke drifted from the pile before a flame consumed the wood.

Kieran smiled at the small flame. "There we go. That feels warm enough to nip some of the chill. Isn't that right?" He held his hands out to feel the warmth admiring crispy leaves in the air.

His stomach growled unsettled. He sighed and shifted. "You up to your own mischief in there? Very well."

He raised two stronger limbs into the earth. He took a third branch and slipped the handle of the pot onto the branch before settling it onto the two adjacent limbs. "Now all to do is wait. A small nap perhaps? I do like the sound of that. Hmm." He muttered once again to himself. He leaned onto his back and waited for the water to boil. He closed his eyes for a brief nap. His mind drifted to the memories of the past.

The skies were dark from cloud and ash. Metal clanged and clashed. A younger Kieran reeled back as the blow pushed him back against the earth. He spun his sword just in time to block a blow that nearly sliced from his shoulder to thigh. He thrusted and kicked the orc. Its blood gushed as he pulled out his sword. He swiped it back while getting his bearings. He had barely managed to escape to a clearing where most of the fighting had tampered off.

His heart pounded as he turned in time to see a rider barrel towards him. The rider flopped back in a sickening way as a spear thudded into his chest. The horse screamed and reared. Its hooves flying and almost hitting Kieran in the chest. He stumbled and barely got out of its way. He crawled awkwardly from the weight of his armor.

A huffing growl came from behind him. A steady clank clank of armor followed. There was another cry of an elf followed by a thudding body behind Kieran. He turned to see the orc pursuing him. He finally found his feet in time to defend himself.

The orc swung for his head. Kieran, unnerved, barely ducked before remembering to fight. He thrusted at the orc's core. The orc parried and knocked Kieran in the jaw with his gauntlet. Kieran cried out in pain. He tasted the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. His tongue skimmed over his teeth as he backed up. He held up his sword again to block a rampage of blows. The orc kicked him in the midsection sending him to his back.

"[2]_Ea!_ Aaaaaa!" He screamed as the orc plunged his blade at his side. The crude steel clipped at Kieran's side as he tried to move out of the way. Kieran stared up at him in agony. He used some of his strength to thrust into the orc's chest.

The orc grunted before plopping on top of him. Kieran groaned. He tried to push him off of his sword. The corpse slumped off to the side.

Kieran dropped his sword briefly. He held his head up enough to try to see the wound. It wasn't deep but he was losing blood quickly. He pressed against it frantically before looking for meaning to temporarily stop the bleeding. He took deep breaths to calm himself, but it did little to lessen the pain. His mind spun as more screams erupted in the air. He lost consciousness.

Kieran's eyes fluttered open. He was back at his camp site. Steam rose from the pot as the water bubbled inside of the pot. He sat up and grabbed a canteen he had nabbed. He sipped from it. The crude hotness of the drink coursed down his throat. He pulled out a small sack he had acquired recently. He weighted it in the palm of his hand. He was about to pour some of the mix into the pot when a shout came from downstream.

He raised a brow before rising to investigate. He crept along the bank. He spotted an elven woman sitting by the stream. Her clothes were dripping wet. She held two dueling knives, poised in a defensive position. She was breathing heavily.

Kieran rubbed the scruff on his chin, trying to figure out what she was doing. There appeared to be no enemy or sparring partner. Was she just crazy? He moved a little closer.

She spun in the water elegantly wielding her blades in a fluid motion slicing the air before her. She whipped back a leg and rounded her left, turning her back to him. It was clear she had yet to notice him watching her.

Kieran smirked. Perhaps she was crazy. While her movement was precise, she looked ridiculous. He crossed his arms. His smirk momentarily faded. "Miss? Are you alright?" He called.

The woman stopped mid strike surprised by the appearance of him and his question. Her long brown hair whipped back in waves. "Yes, I am…. Do you make it a habit to spy on people mister…?" She waited for him to give her a name.

"Kieran, and no. Not really, but I am curious to why a fine maiden such as yourself is out here." He placed a hand on his hip.

Her lip curled. "Oh, is it too unnerving to see a pretty girl alone in the woods, Kieran." She sheathed her knives and walked over to her belongings on the bank.

"Well, no." Kieran swallowed and watched her. "You seem to have some skill. Where might you be headed?"

She laughed. "I'm not that foolish sir. I've only just met you. I have no idea what your motives may be." She swung her cloak on. "I have no desire to share with you my business."

Kieran ran after her. He grabbed her arm. "Wait, perhaps you could give me a chance. Let us talk over my fire just over yonder. We can get to know each other better. I promise you no harm my lady."

She looked at him. "Swear upon your life blood?"

"Swear?" He looked at her oddly. "My lady, something tells us that we have more in common than you think. It is unlike our people to so easily swear on such things, but I do pledge my word to not harm you." He let go of her. Hopefully she would understand he meant no ill intent.

"I'm Arrades of the Last Homely House," she sighed. "Show me to your camp." She gestured.

Kieran smiled. "Very well, Lady Arrades." He guided her back to his fire. His pot was boiling and spilling over. "By the Valar!" He cried. He rushed to pull the pot off the fire. "_Ea!" _He pulled his hand back as the water splashed onto the ground.

Arrades raised an eyebrow at him. She sat down on a log. "Have you been out in the wilderness long?"

Kieran nursed his burnt hand. "No, actually. I'm still getting used to life on the road." He sighed. "Tell me, have you been traveling long alone? Seems like the Last Homely House would be preferred over a night in the wilderness."

Arrades crossed her legs. "I'm not sure. Time seems to fly while traveling. Its easy to lose track after a number of years. Tell me, what brings you out here. You seem more like a pampered city elf than a homeless bum."

Kieran laughed. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted by such a remark. Nevertheless, I grew up mostly in the Grey Havens. I," he hesitated and poked at the fire with a stick after he had set his pot aside. He started to pull out the makings for coffee. "I do know a thing or two."

"Well, obviously I wouldn't have pegged you to be a ranger." She studied him. "No, I don't even think you've lived in the Grey Havens long either. You like to wander."

"Impressive, my lady." Kieran pulled out an extra cup he had been carrying. "Coffee?"

"Thank you," she replied as she took the cup he offered.

"How do you come to that conclusion?" Kieran poured the coffee carefully into her cup before pouring into his own.

"Lucky guess." She smiled as she sipped her coffee. "This is good. It has been a while since I've had a good cup of coffee."

Kieran smiled and nodded. "It has taken me awhile to find a bean that I can enjoy and brew properly. Hundreds of years of practice." He sipped from his own cup.

"You look as though you were close in age to myself." Arrades replied surprised.

"Forgive my rudeness but may I inquire to your age my lady?" Kieran inquired.

"I'm three thousand five hundred seventy-five years old." She smiled. "I find it hard to believe you are any older."

He smiled meekly. "Very much older my lady. I was fairly young when your home was being built."

She straighten. "Then you are my elder. Forgive me." She placed a hand over her chest and bowed. She stopped as it dawned on her, "You are not of the race of man then? You are kin?" She looked at him suspiciously.

Kieran pushed back his hair to show the scars on his ears. "I am. Although, I have not spent much time with our people since the Final Alliance."

She stared at him. "You truly have me in wonder, Lord Kieran."

He held up his hand. "Please, no lord. I have no such title."

"Then you are a wandering bum." She smirked.

Kieran smirked back. "You have quite a tongue Lady Arrades, but no I am no bum nor am I pampered. I'm comfortable living off the pockets of society." He leaned back and drank some more coffee.

"Is that why you dwell not with our kin? I wouldn't have realized you were—" She was interrupted.

"I have chosen a mortal life. I'm familiar with some of the ways of our people, however I choose to remain outside the social construct. Perhaps, now that I have shed some light about my person you are more willing to share your business?" He leaned and steadied his mug on his knee.

Arrades pushed some hair behind her ear. It seemed as though her question made him uncomfortable. "I am traveling home. My father sent his summons."

"Summons? Are you of noble birth, my lady?" Kieran finished off his coffee.

Arrades hesitated. "My lady is. I have two days' time to reach Rivendell." She rose. "I should be going if I am to get there in time. I have lingered here for too long."

Kieran rubbed his mug and stared into the fire. The fire crackled in the silence that held between them. The firelight caught the loneliness he held in his eyes.

"Would you like to accompany me, Kieran?" Arrades asked cautiously. "You can be my guest until you feel the need to leave. I'm sure my father would be keen to hear your stories from the road. I myself am intrigued by your past." She confessed.

Kieran looked up at him. He didn't give her an answer right away. He weighed his options before replying. "I'd be happy to give you company my lady."

{**Translations: [1] Mixed Quenya and Sindarin: Where the road goes this sword goes/Where I without knowledge/lore/Until see you again/May two stars shine upon/**

**[2] Quenya: Ea -Cry of pain or woe **}

_{Alrighty! I hope you enjoyed this first installation for this fanfic. Hopefully, I will have the second chapter up soon. :) }_


	2. Chapter 2

{_Hello readers! Here is the next installment for this fanfic. This chapter does contain some gore. So be mindful when reading! Other than that, I hope that you enjoy reading this chapter. I have done my best to include translations for the Elvish that is included. Some phrases like "Mellon nin", I didn't bother since its commonly known. Thank you once again to my friends who acted as beta readers for this chapter. I greatly appreciate the feedback that you gave. With that having been said, enjoy chapter 2! ~Longstrider }_

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Younger Kieran found himself in a medical tent. He lay on a cot just near the entrance.

His side was neatly bandaged, and his armor rested beside the cot. The tent flap whipped back sinisterly as the darkness encroached from the outside.

"Kieran! You are awake! Blessed be the Valar!" A raven-haired elf approached him. "We weren't sure if you were going to make it."

"Fearil?" Kieran squinted at him. The elf still donned stained armor. He looked around him to see other wounded lying in the tent.

"Yes, _mellon nin__,_" Fearil kneeled beside him. "By the healer's hands, you are mending quickly. You will be able to join us on the field soon." He smiled.

Kieran shook his head. "I can't."

Fearil furrowed his brows. "Do you hear yourself Kieran? We have a duty to our people.

This darkness should be destroyed, or we shall be consumed," He whispered harshly.

Kieran looked at him weakly. He groaned. "I've tried…" He squinted as images flashed of the dead piled.

"They will kill you for treason if you desert," Fearil threatened. He pulled back from his ear. "I have lost too many friends to this war. You are blessed to have fallen where you did." He stood and looked down at him. "I'll check on you later. Rest for now." He patted Kieran's

shoulder before turning to leave him. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "We all will be home soon."

Kieran nodded sighing before closing his eyes. He slept long and deep despite the pain. A shriek jolted him from his sleep. He turned his head to look out onto the battlefield. He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed since Fearil's visit.

The clouds flashed with streaks of lightning. The tent had gone oddly silent. He turned and looked at the rest of the wounded and dying. They slept while the last of the attendants left the tent.

"I miss the trees…the call of the seagulls from the harbor." He murmured as he remembered. "I want to go home. Home." He moaned. He twisted to get up. "Aaah."

He touched his side wincing. It had mended nicely but was still healing. He withdrew his hand and reached for his armor. Carefully he placed it back on. He reached for his sword and stood.

"My lord what are you doing?" One of the attendants came back into the tent. "You should be resting," she scolded.

Kieran looked at her. "No, I'm needed." He started to walk towards the entrance.

"No! My lord please!" The attendant reached to grab his arm. "I must insist. You won't last long out there!"

Kieran shrugged her off. "I am going!" He growled.

"Somebody, help!" The attendant yelled.

Several elves ran in to hold Kieran back. He struggled against them as a silver haired, tall elf walked in. His silver beard draped over his armor neatly as he narrowed his eyes at Kieran. "Have a seat," his voice was calm and commanding.

Kieran stopped struggling, "My Lord, permit me to stand."

The older elf nodded his head. "Very well." He gestured to the tent for the attendants to leave. "Is there some reason you wish to leave?"

"I want to fight so I can return home," Kieran stated blatantly. "Lieutenant, let me join you on the field to fight by your side."

The elf stroked his beard. "You have a fiery spirit, soldier. You remind me of someone." He studied Kieran. "I'd advise against you coming back to the front in your condition. You could put more lives than necessary at risk."

"But Lieutenant!" Kieran protested.

"I believe I have made myself clear, soldier. Rest." The Lieutenant replied.

"My lord Cirdan!" Fearil burst into the tent. "Please forgive his disrespect. I have encouraged him to feel this strongly." Fearil pushed Kieran toward the cot he had been sleeping on. "Please leave him for me to deal with."

Cirdan breathed deeply, studying Kieran for a moment longer. "I leave him in your charge, Captain." Cirdan walked out of the tent.

Fearil grabbed Kieran by the armor, "Are you crazy! Do you know who you were mouthing off to?" He whispered harshly. He searched Kieran's eyes. "That was Gil-galand's Lieutenant! He could have you killed on the spot for insubordination!"

Kieran growled back at him, "Let go of me, Fearil. By the Valar, I'll smite you."

"You will do no such thing," Fearil growled back. "That would be the means of your undoing. Now, you're going to listen to me and listen well because any act of disobedience will be your last. Got it?" He let go of Kieran.

Kieran quieted. "What will you have me do, Captain Fearil?"

"You will join me later tonight. I will be back. For now, you will rest." Fearil stuck his hands behind his back.

"Captain?" Kieran looked at him surprised.

"I can't sneak you out of here now. You will get both of us in trouble," Fearil whispered.

He smiled and patted Kieran on the back. "Now rest before I change my mind."

Kieran smiled and nodded his head. "Thank you, Fearil. I'm indebted to you." He sat on

the cot.

Fearil watched as his friend rested. "Indeed, you do, but it shall be repaid soon." He smiled and left Kieran to sleep.

After a few hours had passed, Kieran found himself amongst other soldiers standing in line. Fearil sat next to him on horseback. They marched next to the rest of the elvish host. The armies of men stood beside them to their left flank.

"This is it _mellon nin,_" Fearil looked down at Kieran. "Don't die on me. We still have Airehísie waiting for us back home." He grinned, "Don't ever keep a woman waiting."

Kieran smirked, "Don't you know. I'll see you on the other side if not the halls of Mandos. "_[1]kwí _Valar _tiruva lye."_

_[2] _"_Macil!_" Fearil yelled as he drew his sword. He nodded looking back at Kieran as he muttered, "_kwí _Valar _tiruva lye_, Kieran."

Kieran drew his sword, a long elegantly curved blade that shimmered in the dim light. He set his gaze to the enemy in front of them. His side burned and ached. He bit his jaw and tried to ignore the pain. He had to fight. Fearil was right. Airehisie was waiting for them back in the Grey Havens.

He pictured the fair maid, with her glossy black locks bouncing off her shoulders. Her pale smooth skin in contrast to her hair. She was merely a friend, but he had seen the way

she had looked at him. He had no heart for her. His mind had only been set on other things than love. Fearil on the other hand had envied her affection for him.

Kieran shifted his position to offensive. He glanced again at his friend. Their last attack had wiped their forces, who was to say that it wouldn't happen again. Kieran pushed such doubt to the back of his mind. Instead, he thought of home.

"_[3]__Stīrē_!" Fearil yelled. He stirred his mound into a gallop as his forces followed behind

him.

Very quickly, Kieran found himself unable to keep up with the pace of the other soldiers.

Cries and screams filled the air as the slicing and cutting of flesh commenced. He watched as Fearil's horse reared suddenly, throwing him off. "Fearil!" Kieran screamed. He rushed through the fighting in an attempt to reach his friend.

A heavy blow from a mace knocked him in the chest. He hit the ground on his back breathless. His eyes gaped wide as the orc lurched over him for another blow. Kieran groaned from his side as he violently twisted to roll away. The mace dug into the dirt and the orc growled.

Kieran limped on the side. He breathed hard still struggling to find his breath. He held his sword out and used it to prop himself up.

"Death, you elf scum!" The orc growled. He twisted the mace around for another blow. Kieran deflected the blow and rose to stand. He swung downward at the orc slashing at a weak spot in his armor. The orc squealed like a pig. He backhanded Kieran in the jaw.

Kieran's head twisted back. He threw back two volleys of blows ending with slicing off orc's head. He grunted and turned to look for Fearil, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The sounds of the battlefield deafened in the background as a dark shadow cast over Kieran. Kieran looked up to see a dragon rider land before him. The rider was clothed in darkness. Upon his head was twisted steel that barely resembled a helm. It lacked eye holes for sight.

The ground trembled beneath the weight of the dragon. A small flame scorched the earth a few feet from where Kieran stood.

Backing up, Keiran muttered, "Valar help." He tried not to hold his side to give away his injury. He held up his sword.

"You are a weak elfling," the rider breathed. "Yesss…I sense… rejection and fear… Let me spare you of such thingssss," he hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kieran mustered. "I have nothing to fear." "But deattthh. Come accept its invitation." The rider held out his gauntleted hand.

Kieran's lips curled in a snarl, "May the Valar take you and your so-called courtesy!"

The rider dismounted and drew a claymore. The dragon blew a flame around to encircle and trap Kieran. It took to the sky.

Kieran felt the flames singe his clothes. His chance of escape had been cut off. He started to cough from the smoke. He raised a hand to cover his mouth.

"Human and elf I smell. Purge yesss…. lower than elf scum and now you will go where you belong." His words held a sinister ring to them. He watched as Kieran fell to his knees from the coughing.

"What are you?" Kieran choked.

"Your liberator." The rider slashed at Kieran.

A line of blood streamed through a wound on Kieran's stomach. He laid down crying out in pain. He held his stomach.

The rider pressed a heavy boot on his chest. "That'sss it. Give in…There's no hope now."

Kieran wheezed. He watched as the rider turned leaving him for dead. He climbed back upon his steed and flew away.

Kieran rolled to his side. He crawled to the ring of fire. Sweat dripped from his brow. "Valar, I beg you…Spare me...spare me your favor." He pulled his sword and held it in the fire for a moment before he set it on his wound. He screamed as the blood sizzled. He pulled it off and panted. Kieran looked at the fire. It seemed to die off. He struggled to his feet and looked for means of escape. Little did he know he was being watched.

**{Translations:**

**1 Quenya for "May Valar keep (tense of guard/protect) you."**

**2 Quenya for Sword.**

**3 Primative Elvish- Forward!}**

{That's it for this week. Hope everyone has a lovely holiday tomorrow! Stayed tuned for the next chapter. }


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